28. Rowan

28

ROWAN

R owan didn't leave her room in Maiden's Tower for two days. She was too exhausted and depressed to face the world, and as restless as the town was, she wasn't sure she could face them in her red dress and keep her hurt under wraps.

Mrs. Teverin was good enough to leave her to her sulking, only stopping by to drop off meals and detangle her hair.

Rowan couldn't muster the enthusiasm for much of anything. She made time to read to Aeoife at night, but other than that, she stared at the wall and wondered how she'd ever been so foolish to trust Cade. She'd always known he was a demon. He'd told her repeatedly not to trust him.

It was easier to cultivate her anger toward him than to think about Conor.

Rowan had the dagger within her grasp, had been presented the perfect opportunity to use it, but she'd let Conor live. She'd believed him. He'd convinced her that she was worthy of gentleness the world had never shown her, and as soon as she relaxed into it, he yanked it away. It was unbearably cruel.

She didn't ask the Wolf to be anything other than himself. She'd gone in expecting nothing but cruelty. He'd been the one to convince her there was another option. He'd given her a garden, told her things could be different for her. It was a lot to offer her just to use her.

Every time she tried to make sense of his betrayal, she ended up more lost. Her anger at Conor warred with her rage at Cade.

She knew that Cade would always do whatever served him best, but she'd never suspected that their entire friendship was based on what it could get him. She'd always thought that they kept each other company—a means to a lonely end for both of them. But now, she was the same to him as she was to everyone else; a pawn to use for some larger gain.

At the bottom of it all, she was mostly just furious with herself. She'd let the first glimpse of kindness in her life throw her off course.

"You're not a killer," Sarai had said, but that was before, when they were talking about Elder Garrett. Perhaps her friend was right, but if Rowan wanted to live, she would need to make herself into one.

Cade's betrayal had broken her, but Conor shattered her. Now she needed to sharpen herself into a weapon to wield against them both. It was with that purpose that Rowan dragged herself to her practice space on her third day back at Maiden's Tower.

Rowan sat at the piano. She stumbled through several pieces she knew very well, but her fingers felt too heavy and her voice was tight with grief. Nothing worked as it was supposed to. She jammed her fingers down on the keys in frustration.

The air in the room warped and bent, and there was a flash of light as the Mother appeared.

"You've got some nerve showing up here today," Rowan snarled.

"Ah, I see we're finally beyond formalities," the Mother said.

"You tricked me!" Rowan snapped.

"You are an investment of my time and resources. I wanted someone to keep an eye on you. I'm sorry that I kept it a secret. I know it feels like a betrayal. I've found that people have a tendency to act in a performative way when they know I'm watching. I wanted to know who you really were and what you were made of."

Rowan shook her head and sighed.

"I needed to know that you could manage this," the goddess soothed. "I've known this crisis of faith was coming for some time now, but I needed the confirmation that you were a Maiden who could handle herself. You've always had to be a fierce little thing. I wanted to see if that fire burned deep—that it wasn't just sparks."

Rowan sighed. "Well, now you know."

"You might not like the way I work, but the reality is this: the Wolf can only survive another season if he devours you. If he doesn't, a new god of death will rise."

Rowan stared at the Mother, wide-eyed. Never once in any of the scriptures had she read about such a thing. It was one thing to accept that the Mother had the power to create a new god of death, but another to know that Conor could lose out to some other beast without her help.

Rowan shook her head. "Is he getting stronger or weaker? I've lost track," she said with a curt smile. "You contradict yourself every time we speak."

"He is stronger than I am, but make no mistake—he'll not make it through another season without you. And I don't know if I will if you don't manage to end him. Right now, his blight is growing, but this is his last-ditch effort to inspire the kind of fear and faith that strengthen him."

The Mother's words sobered her.

"How can a new god rise?" Rowan asked. "How will that be better?"

"By my grace, of course. And it will be better because we can renegotiate our deal. The people of Ballybrine can bear witness to such a deal, and that will restore faith and rebuild my strength," the Mother said.

Rowan stared at her, waiting for more. The truth felt just out of reach. "That's not much in the way of an explanation."

The Mother frowned. "Have you not already seen how cruel the Wolf can be? No matter what he might want to be, he's still a monster who can only survive off the souls of innocent young women. He'll kill you whether he wants to or not. Whether he means to or not. The reality is that the Red Maiden can choose which god of death to serve. I will make a deal with him that does not include your sacrifice. It might still require your weekly service of ferrying the souls, though there's no reason why you couldn't be escorted by some brave huntsmen as well."

Rowan stared at the floor, trying to untangle the thread of what the goddess was saying.

"You think he cares for you," the Mother sighed. "You think he's a misunderstood monster."

"I think no such thing. Don't pretend to know my mind," Rowan said.

"Ah, I see you've grown some thorns," the Mother said. Her face changed, and Rowan swore she saw a flash of regret in her eyes. "I'm sorry that you had to."

Rowan said nothing. Her mind was a mess. At times, the Mother seemed gracious and kind, but she was always pragmatic.

"Dear, it doesn't really matter if you believe me. I don't need you to love me or honor me. I just need you to do what's right, and that is a thing I know you will do, Rowan. You know what is at stake if you fail."

Rowan swallowed hard. Aeoife . Aeoife was at stake. Whether Rowan wanted to rebel or not, she wouldn't. Her responsibility went beyond herself, and if there was any way she could save Aeoife the same pain, she would do it. What was one more sacrifice in a long line of them?

She might have felt something for Conor he didn't feel for her, but she still didn't want it to be true. She wished there was another way, but the only way to end the exchange of Red Maidens for peace between realms was to kill the Wolf and let a new god of death rise in his place.

It was foolish of Rowan to ever dream that her life with the Wolf could be a fairy tale. It was a scary story, a tale of horror in the woods. The only real trick had been the one she played on herself in believing it could be anything else.

"I'll figure it out," she said. "Until then, you'll keep Cade away from Aeoife and me."

"As you wish," the Mother said. "You should know he feels quite distraught at your banishment."

"I don't care how he feels," Rowan snapped. She wished it was true, but deep down, she felt Cade's absence acutely.

Satisfied with her response, the Mother nodded and blinked out of the room in a bright burst of light.

Alone in the silence of her practice room, Rowan's mind spun too fast. She jumped up and left the tower in a huff, unsure what she was searching for.

As Rowan walked through the square, the stares of the townsfolk made her want to peel off her own skin. No one yelled at her, but hushed whispers still rose as she passed. She cursed her stupid red dress—the dress that made it feel like all of her pain was on display for the world to see.

Look at me and my broken heart , she thought. Conor may as well have cleaved her open and left her in the town square. It would have been kinder.

She cut down alleyways to get away from prying eyes until she found herself pleasantly lost in a part of town she wasn't as familiar with. Rounding a corner, she bumped into a group of men.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, stepping around them, narrowly missing the slosh of beer from their mugs.

"Aye, Red! See you finally let the old Wolf into your magical twat," one of the men taunted.

Rowan bristled as another stepped into her path. "Where you off to in such a hurry? You've not given him enough yet, apparently. The blight is still spreading in Ashand Orchards," he said, grabbing her arm. "Can't even do a good enough job of lying on your back to save your people."

He pushed her into a third man, who held her firmly by the shoulders. "What do ya say, boys? Should we have a taste of the Wolf's leftovers?"

Rowan struggled to free herself from the man's grip when another man stepped up in front of her and pulled her into an alley. He shoved her against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs, and began to hike up her dress. Rowan scratched at his face, trying desperately to get free.

There was so little she had left to offer. She'd sacrificed her childhood, her family, her heart. It struck Rowan that they wouldn't be happy with her life, either. There was nothing she could offer that would be enough. Worse, they felt entitled to her pain. There was no sacrifice too great for her to make, and if she didn't decide where the line was, they'd never stop demanding more.

"Leave Rowie alone!"

A red blur burst around the corner, launching at the man grasping Rowan's arm. He let her go out of sheer surprise as he shook off his attacker.

Rowan stumbled back, shocked to see Aeoife standing there, her hood pushed back and her little fists held out in front of her like she was ready for a fight.

The man took a step back, averting his gaze before turning back to Rowan. "You should get that one home. She's too young for this."

"But not too young to venture into the Dark Wood alone. This is the face my death condemns," Rowan said, thrusting her hand toward Aeoife.

The men stepped back, looking more startled than truly chastened.

Rowan's hands itched to beat the man bloody. A feral, impotent anger rose inside her and she clenched her fists to try to hold it back, but it was futile. She cocked her fist back.

"Rowan!"

Finn's voice startled her into stillness. He came between her and the group of men as she lowered her hand.

"Be gone or the huntsmen will make sure you go painfully," he snapped. The men scattered as Finn turned to face Rowan and Aeoife. His eyes lingered on Rowan's red dress. "Are you well?"

"I'd be better if these people would leave me alone."

"They're scared, Rowan," Finn sighed.

"And I'm not? What have they to be afraid of? It's me that stands between them and the Wolf."

Finn shook his head. "We're isolated here. They're worried for the future and the food supply."

Rowan took a step toward him, but Aeoife slid her hand into Rowan's and gave it a squeeze, and all her anger fled. "I have no future," she whispered.

"That's not true," Finn said. "You have belonged with me since the day I pulled you from that riptide. I looked into those beautiful green eyes and I was done for. I didn't leave you to the sea then, and I will not leave you to the Wolf now." He leaned closer. "I love you."

Rowan turned away from him, pulling her hood up to hide the tears streaming down her face. Aeoife walked beside her, whispering comforting words the whole way back to Maiden's Tower. But nothing could soothe Rowan.

She cried because she desperately wanted to hear those words from the lips of a god who would never say such a thing. She was caught between a Wolf who used her and a huntsman who desperately loved an idea of her, and she didn't know how to free herself.